Be there. Our picks for a week's worth of fun. First person.

Carmen Pelaez

September 08, 2000

According to Carmen Pelaez, the title of her one-woman show "Rum & Coke" came about because, "You can't get any more Cuban than rum, and you can't get any more American than Coke." Pelaez's Cuban lineage and Miami upbringing created a collision of worlds that she explores to great effect in "Rum & Coke." The show opens this week at the Pegasus Players' space. 1145 W. Wilson Ave., $15-25. 773-878-9761.

Q: Growing up in Miami, were you really cognizant of your Cuban background? Was it something your family stressed, or were they intent on simply assimilating?

A: To me, growing up in Miami was like growing up in North Havana. It wasn't an issue, but it was always like, "OK, this is what we are. You're Cuban, and you're growing up in this country because of circumstance," so you respect being American also, but you're Cuban. Which is absolutely fine with me. We didn't wear our flags on our foreheads; it's just a matter of fact. This is how we are.

Q: Your great-aunt was Amelia Pelaez, the celebrated painter. Did her art teach you anything about the way you created your art?

A: What influenced me more than anything about her was her integrity. She painted every day of her life, and she painted because she loved to, and it didn't matter who bought it, who didn't buy it, who wanted it. She used to give her paintings away as wedding gifts. Her brothers and sisters would tease her, saying, "Why do you give them away if you know people don't like them?" and she said, "Because art has to walk. One day, they're going to love it." And she was absolutely right. What I learned most from my aunt was complete fearlessness in front of an empty canvas.

Q: And painting is similar to performance art in that you can present truths that might seem unpalatable in ordinary conversation.

A: Absolutely. I think ultimately we can all understand each other's stories if they're told in the right way. I always say I learned how to write by going to museums, because in that one painting, that painter has one opportunity to tell you what he's trying to say. You've got texture, composition, rhythm, perspective, all these different things to consider. That's kind of the way I (work). ... I want to show the truths of these people. I have to be true to these women I've created (and) let other people judge. When you let the audience decide, it means more to them, and it's much more satisfying for you.

Q: If these two movie teams met, who would win: The X-Men or the Buena Vista Social Club?

A: I have to say The X-Men, because I didn't like the Buena Vista Social Club movie. It was a German perspective on what Cubans were like. Those guys are so much funnier, so much livelier, so much more intense, so much more everything than that movie portrayed them to be. I was kind of taken aback by it. I spent the afternoon with them and (they) were so vibrant. I know (director Wim Wenders is) a master, but I don't like what he did with that movie at all.